


Cherry Splattered Canvas

by flowerene



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, i think??, no violence between main pair, not extremely graphic either but just playing it safe, omg I’m sorry it sounds too ambiguous, they are very much in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29081052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerene/pseuds/flowerene
Summary: Taeyong thought he could surprise Yuta on their anniversary by doing what his boyfriend does best.It ended up not going exactly as planned.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Cherry Splattered Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> this is nowhere near the kind of content I usually do and quite possibly will be my only "dark" fic I'll ever attempt to write again (maybe??) but I did enjoy the brain picking it had me doing!

Everything had been going perfectly as planned.

Taeyong almost couldn’t believe his luck at how well it was going for his first time all things considered. He gave the room a quick once over, assuring himself he’d set the entire place up exactly how Yuta often had it—with some minor adjustments on his part.

A variety of clean brushes laid neatly on the steel workbench beside Taeyong as the distinct smell of paint filled the room from the opened cans. Clear plastic tarps were spread out and covered a majority of the floor to prevent any accidental spills and make cleaning up easier for later.

Glancing at the clock on the wall across from him, Taeyong noted it would be a little while longer before he could begin but that was fine, he still had enough time before Yuta came back home from the gallery and wandered to where Taeyong would have his anniversary gift displayed for him. Anticipation hummed throughout Taeyong as he pondered over the reaction his boyfriend would give him and chuckled softly to himself.

Then the guy he has tied, gagged, and blindfolded had to go and ruin it all.

Cursing under his breath, Taeyong had just propped up the last of the three blank 16x30 canvases on the easel when he heard the disoriented muffled whimpering from behind him and turned to find the guy stirring around blindly. His gaze drifted to check if the IV was still intact, carefully monitoring where the blood was steadily filling the bag.

“You’re not supposed to be awake,” Taeyong clicked his tongue in disapproval, lips protruding into a pout. He’d sworn he had gotten the right measurements down of the concoction, ensuring the male would be knocked out the entire time. Guess he’ll have to do some revisions later.

He quickened his steps once the guy began to thrash in his hold on the stretcher, loosening the bindings Taeyong mistakenly thought he’d secured properly and only further upsetting him of his blunders.

There’s a bit of a struggle to restrain the male as he wiggles vigorously to free himself, his weight throwing Taeyong’s own off with the amount of force being used and causing the pair to stumble to the ground together.

Taeyong’s fast to recover, putting some distance between them and retrieving the putty knife left discarded by a nearby can of paint. Meanwhile the male is no longer bound to the stretcher and yanked the IV tube from his arm, the blood connected to the bag emptying onto the floor much to Taeyong’s (regrettable) annoyance. The man then ripped off the blindfold, blurry eyes meeting Taeyong’s own glaring ones. He attempts to stand but is unsteady and falls back on his knees, body sluggish due to the amount of blood loss.

Not missing a beat, Taeyong dives forward to drive the knife into the male. The man has enough awareness to throw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the knife to his chest, but not without getting slashed in the arm. Clenching his teeth around the gag in his mouth, the male pulls some strength in him and claws at Taeyong’s arms, pressing his thumb roughly into the pressure points there. Taeyong yelps and jumps back, dropping his knife in the process.

Using the disruption to his advantage, the guy throws a punch and manages to connect his fist to side of Taeyong’s jaw, a resounding click from the impact momentarily stunning Taeyong but he’s quick to return the hit with an elbow to the nose. A sharp cry escapes the male, hands flying up at the surge of pain and Taeyong takes the opportunity to kick the guy hard in the ribs for extra measure, causing the male to curl in on himself. 

“Asshole,” Taeyong grunts, jaw throbbing but he pays it no mind. Taking ahold of the knife once again, he stares down at the crumbled, weeping form uncaringly then slides his fingers through the hair of the man and tugged his head back _hard_. The man starts with a choked sob, head bent at an awkward angle and trembling violently.

Taeyong doesn’t waste any more time and plunges the knife right into the male’s jugular, dragging through his skin rough and jaggedly. The blade tears through the muscle accordingly and he holds the male in place as his body convulses with the amount of pressure used. Adrenaline shoots hot through Taeyong’s veins like some kind of drug he’s never tasted before, feeling a little bit of himself disappear with each stab while he watched the blood spray out in a myriad of directions.

He wasn’t sure if this was the pleasure Yuta had mentioned before, if this is what he felt every time he took a victim, draining them of their entire life and painting the world a bloody mess to later marvel at in the form of art. What Taeyong _did_ know was that he felt a certain kind of hatred towards the guy who decided to destroy his long-awaited surprise, the perfect anniversary present he had planned so fondly for his boyfriend—now completely ruined.

Taeyong releases his hold on the male, stepping aside as he fell back into the rapidly pooling blood. The man’s vision is going in and out, body shuddering and when he coughs it sends blood spluttering out of his neck, smearing the tarp beneath them in dark crimson. Gargling noises erupt from his mouth, choking on the gag with tears lingering behind his eyes as Taeyong steps back into view over him.

With one, two, three stabs into the man’s chest in succession, Taeyong feels the knife penetrate the flesh with difficulty but withdraw smoothly due to the lubrication of the blood. The light in the man’s eyes seem to want to leave and despite the fear plastered on his face—completely bloodied and horrified—the facial muscles are relaxed as if they’ve already given up on the fight. But everything still appears too distant for Taeyong as he continues to thrust the blade against the other, warm blood splattering onto him.

_Fuck, who does this guy think he is spoiling his special night with Yuta?!_ And so Taeyong shoves the knife for the last time into the face of the lifeless man, driving it over the eye sockets with a squelching pop.

Once he’s finished, Taeyong throws his head back, out of breath and hands aching from exertion. The blood from the body travels across the tarp in numerous directions, some pooling over the edges and staining all over except for the canvases it was meant for. _Oh god_ , Taeyong’s stomach twists, slowly coming back to himself, what had he done?

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ ” Taeyong practically shouts like a mantra, dropping the knife to the floor with a resounding clang.

_This wasn’t supposed to happen this way._

He carefully steps around from the body and tainted tarp, turning his back towards it and sinking down to the cold floor with his hands cradling his face; he’d just taken his first life and the after effect of his thoughtless actions were causing panic to set in. Thoughts race through his head, desperately trying to remember how to properly dispose of a body like Yuta had shown him but unable to focus on a single thing. Ever fiber in his being is begging him to move— _do something_ , but his body feels fuzzy and the room is swimming.

“Taeyong.”

At the sound of his boyfriend’s voice, Taeyong raises his head up and looks through hazy eyes to find Yuta standing by the door in the pristine suit he had picked out for him earlier that day. He tries to form a sentence but it gets lost in his mouth and Taeyong doesn’t realize he’s hyperventilating until Yuta is kneeling in front of him, taking his face into his hands and pulling him from the panicked reverie he had descended into by the call of his name again.

“Taeyong, this is…” Yuta begins, truly at a loss for words for the first time in his life. He looks around the room, wide eyes filled with wonder. A body lays completely mutilated in the center of the room; there is so much blood it may as well have painted the walls and not just the plastic tarp. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent the smile that wants to form, instead he returns his gaze back to his boyfriend.

Taeyong is a sight to behold in the current state he’s in. Yuta caresses his thumb smoothly over Taeyong’s cheeks, feeling the sticky and barely dry blood over the soft skin of his lover. He touches it as if it were his first time, even though they’ve been covered in blood countless times before, thumb pressing gently—caring really, and smearing the blood. His attention solely on the back and forth motion his thumb is doing then refocusing to meet Taeyong’s doe eyes which are looking at him worriedly. It doesn’t take Yuta long to figure out what has happened here and feels warmth take over his heart.

Their faces are close enough for Yuta to try and memorize every single detail of Taeyong’s face in his mind, encasing the moment like one would do with a photograph. Part of Taeyong’s ash blonde hair is dyed in crimson and sticking to his damp forehead uncomfortably. Yuta’s eyes follow the droplets right under Taeyong’s left eyebrow, trailing to the stain of blood on the side of his lower lip where his mole is—and Yuta can’t help himself to touch the spot several times, painting the clean skin around with red. Lowering his hand to Taeyong’s neck, Yuta uses some of the blood from his boyfriend’s face and mixes it with the few drops there, spreading the palm of his hand over the area and feeling the pulse thrumming underneath.

“Beautiful…” Yuta murmurs to himself, envisioning a collection of artworks dedicated to capturing this Taeyong for his viewing eyes only. There’s always a risk (and thrill) when it came to displaying his kind of _art_ at galleries and other events. It all lay in the finer details if anyone were to look close enough.

“Yuta,” Taeyong sounds so lost and falls forward into awaiting arms. He’s trembling violently and his chest is tight, ready to burst. He can feel the sting of tears behind his eyes as stares up at the man he loves, his boyfriend, his soon to be fiancé, the man who has killed for the sake of breathing life into his art.

Yuta wills Taeyong to calm his labored breathing, arms coming around to hold him closely. He caresses Taeyong’s nape comfortingly with one stained hand while the other strokes up and down his back. Taeyong sniffs and leans against him, closing his eyes and reveling in the warmth and soothing touches of Yuta’s hands on him.

Little by little, Taeyong relaxes enough for them to move and get up from the cold, hard floor. They stand hugging for quite some time, Yuta swaying them gently with Taeyong’s chin tucked onto his shoulder.

“You’re home early,” Taeyong exhales slowly, clinging to Yuta and inhaling his scent to ground him some more. “Did everything go alright?”

Yuta shrugs in their hold, “Told them it was my anniversary. S’good thing I came when I did, hm?” He pulls back a little to brush aside stiff strands of hair from Taeyong’s face.

Taeyong releases a low whine, eyes downcast. “I thought I’d surprise you by setting everything up on my own, but then he woke up and I…”

“Hey, what’s with the face? You did so good, baby,” Yuta coos, running his fingers through Taeyong’s hair.

Taeyong peers up at Yuta, distraught finally slinking away to allow a smile to grace his face. “I did?”

“For your first time? Of course!” he hugs Taeyong close to him, affection swelling in his chest.

Taeyong’s breathing stutters and he wants to tell Yuta not to lie but the steady beating of Yuta’s heart eases him up. “Still, I was sloppy and should have double-checked everything.”

“First kills usually are messy not matter how much you prep, nothing to beat yourself over.” Yuta presses a firm kiss against Taeyong’s lips. It’s chaste but still warm and Taeyong wants to deepen it but Yuta is already pulling away with a beaming grin. “Wish I could have seen you in action.”

Taeyong’s eyes widen slightly and shakes his head, gripping the lapels of Yuta’s suit. “There’s no way I would have been able to do it with you there.”

Now it’s Yuta’s turn to whine. “Why not? We always do this together.”

“That’s different, that’s _after_ you’ve drained them. I didn’t even get to finish doing that.” Taeyong groans, unhappy at the turn of events. Honestly, this was why he never participated in the first half with their victims despite Yuta’s insistence. He much preferred assisting with disposing the bodies, at least by then their victims were already dead and were easier to handle.

“Yeah,” Yuta hums, releasing Taeyong and motioning to where the body lay. “I can tell.” He dodges the jab aimed for his ribs with a laugh, hearing Taeyong grumbling to himself as he walked over to inspect the spoiled product.

Squatting down for a closer look, Yuta notes the build of the guy and dips a curious finger into the shredded neck. Taeyong had really gone to town on the guy, nearly decapitating him, and he silently chuckles at how ruthless his boyfriend had been. He brings the blood-stained finger up and doodles a little heart onto the side of his cheek, smiling at Taeyong from over his shoulder, eyes shining with mirth.

Feeling Yuta’s stare on him, Taeyong gazes over and raises a brow in question, not liking the taunting look one bit. “What?”

Yuta flicks some blood at his boyfriend playfully, releasing a huff of laughter when Taeyong scrunches his nose up. “Decided not to go with my way of draining?”

Taeyong crosses his arms over his chests, lips pursed. “Remembering all the steps was too complicated, figured I’d make it easier on myself and just do the blood donating route instead.”

“It’s really not that hard, if you didn’t brush me off every time you’d realize that.” Yuta shakes his head fondly, wiping his finger clean on his pant leg and rising back up. “Any particular reason you chose a guy for this?”

Taeyong scoffed, uncrossing his arms. “So you just assumed I’d go for a woman?” He almost felt offended.

“That’s not what I meant,” Yuta smiles sheepishly, returning back to Taeyong’s side and rests his hands on his waist. “Regardless of gender, it’s better to pick someone you can actually take,” he clarifies and juts his chin towards the body. “Did you study him beforehand or just picked at random?”

The look on Taeyong’s face is enough to tell Yuta it had been the latter and he nods in understanding. “That would explain why he woke up earlier than expected. You needed a higher dosage for a guy like him.”

“I handled myself just fine though,” Taeyong retorts, puffing his cheeks out. He knows Yuta isn’t upset at him in any way and appreciates what he’s saying, but the brat in him likes to push the limits with Yuta for fun. 

Yuta barks out a laugh. “I know you did,” he affirms with a proud grin. “The proof is all over the floor.”

Taeyong goes to hit his chest but Yuta wraps his hand around Taeyong’s crimson-stained one and intwines them together. His eyes travel up to Yuta’s face and finds his expression has changed drastically, sending warm shivers down his spine at the sudden heated intensity. 

“Hey,” Yuta murmurs, leaning forward and cupping Taeyong’s cheek with his other hand. “I’m really glad you’re alright.”

Taeyong’s heart stutters and he feels heat rush to his cheeks. The concern in Yuta’s voice for his wellbeing has him absolutely melting into his boyfriend with a happy sigh.

Yuta tilts Taeyong’s head up by his chin, brushing their lips together in a light kiss. When they pull away, Yuta rests his forehead against Taeyong’s. “So…” he starts after a beat. “Overall, how was it? Anything like you thought it would be?”

Taeyong flutters his eyes open, not realizing he’d closed them at that kiss and was now treated by the sight of Yuta’s warm brown eyes. “Eh,” he drawls out with a shrug. “It was alright when I was in the moment but the feeling after…” 

“It can take some getting used to,” Yuta muses thoughtfully. At the look Taeyong gives him, he continues, “Completely up to you though. You know I’m more than happy you even went for the kill— _literally_.”

“Thanks,” Taeyong bites his lip softly, shifting from one foot to the other before saying what’s on his mind. “If, and I mean _if,_ there is a next time, can you…be on standby? I really don’t want to mess up again.”

Yuta places a hand on the back of Taeyong’s head, pressing a kiss to a clean spot on his forehead, lips lingering there as he spoke. “You know I’ll always have your back, though I highly doubt you’ll need me.”

Taeyong basks in the confidence Yuta has in him and simply hums back in return, curling up against him.

“Guess we should get started on cleaning up, hm? Any longer and this is going to be a bitch to get rid of.” Yuta says at last.

Taeyong agrees, moving to let go but then pauses. “What about your gift?”

Yuta cocks an eyebrow and grins, “The plan was to set everything up for me, right?” Taeyong nods. “All that was needed was the blood and while I do prefer fresh…” he walks over to the fridge in the corner of the room, opening it and checking their inventory. “There’s enough here to use for the canvases.”

“Still…” Taeyong hesitates.

“Look at it like this,” Yuta says as he shrugs off the ruined suit jacket, arms stretching the material of his black dress shirt much to Taeyong’s liking. “At least now we get to do this together which I always prefer,” he smiles, showing off all his white teeth.

“Fine,” Taeyong lets up with a sigh, ignoring the flips his heart is doing. He catches the gloves and disposable lab gown Yuta throws at him in the next moment.

“Good. Now help me spread the body out.”

This, Taeyong could do with ease.

✾

It took longer than usual to restore the room back to its regular state with the amount of blood spilled but while Yuta took care of dismembering the body, Taeyong prepared the sodium hydroxide to dispose of the larger parts they wouldn’t be using as “fish bait” for their hiking trip tomorrow.

Taeyong held his tongue from complaining when Yuta decided an outdoor excursion was their best bet this time around, what with how mangled the body was. He figured he could deal with it since they always had a different method of getting rid of a body, hardly ever repeating themselves and thus leaving their trail untraceable.

✾

Afterwards, when they’ve showered and scrubbed every last part of themselves clean, they settle in the spacious bathtub together, sighs of reliefs coming from the two of them as the heat of the water sinks into them.

“This is nice,” Taeyong says after soaking for a few peaceful minutes, his back resting on Yuta’s chest comfortably.

Yuta tucks his chin on Taeyong’s wet shoulder with a hum, “Nothing like a hot spring though.”

Taeyong lolls his head to the side, lazily running his hand over Yuta’s thigh. “We should go while we’re up in the mountains,” he suggested. “It’s the least you can do to repay me for all the walking I’ll end up doing.”

“I’m not forcing you to come,” Yuta lightly pinches Taeyong who pinches him back in return. “But you could use some sun.”

Taeyong scoffs, “Are you or are you not taking me?” He rearranges themselves to straddle Yuta, lacing his fingers through dark wet locks.

Yuta laughs as water sloshes over the rim and onto the tiled floor from the movement. He intends to splash some water as his response to his boyfriend but pauses, noticing a slight mar to the side of Taeyong’s jaw and carefully tips his chin back to have a closer inspection, fingers tracing the discolored skin delicately. “Did you get hit?”

“A little, it’s fine. Nothing I can’t cover up with makeup.” Taeyong replies distractedly, closing his eyes as he enjoys the way Yuta caresses his face, lips placing soft kisses to his injury.

“Fucker…now I do regret not kicking his head in.” Yuta scowls, draping an arm across Taeyong’s waist and pressing their bodies flush together.

Taeyong gazes at him through his lashes and then Yuta’s mouth is on his in an unhurried kiss, open mouthed and sloppy but somehow tender all at once. A low breathy moan slips out of Taeyong’s throat as Yuta’s hands slide over his body, fingers tracing every crane and contour as if it’s the first time. Yuta was everywhere and all over him, and Taeyong relished in being consumed.

It almost pains him to pull away when every part of him wants to continue kissing Yuta senselessly but he has yet to get his answer.

“Now, now,” Taeyong soothes at the whine, nuzzling the side of Yuta’s neck, teeth grazing against his pulse point teasingly. “Do we have ourselves a deal?”

“Devil,” Yuta mouths to him and Taeyong’s response is to lean back and tilt his head cutely, round eyes sparkling with mischief.

Yuta is a goner.

**Author's Note:**

> in my last [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476942) I mentioned the possibility of writing yutae burying a body and with some help from my lovely friend and [muse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/polisipo/pseuds/polisipo) who had to listen to all my complaints and questioning (a BIG thank you to her, really), and though no actually burying took place, this is the end result! 
> 
> [this](http://www.shoppingwallart.com/three-red-dreammodern-canvas-art-wall-decorfloral-oil-painting-wall-art-with-stretched-frame-ready-to-hang-p-877.html) is how the canvases turned out in case anyone was curious. I had originally intended to delve a little more into their backstory but it just ended up not happening. though idm sharing if y'all are interested.


End file.
